


You're Never Too Old

by Rainne



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banned Together Bingo 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/pseuds/Rainne
Summary: He's not too old, it's just not his scene.
Relationships: pre-Bucky/Steve
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	You're Never Too Old

This wasn’t his usual scene. Bucky preferred quiet spots with quiet music and good beer; this club was loud and crammed and literally offered a free shot of hunch punch to everyone who made it past the ID station. The music was so loud Bucky couldn’t hear himself think, and the hunch punch was a flash straight back to freshman year of college.

Feeling stodgy and out of place, Bucky made his way to the bar and asked, with little hope, for anything they had resembling an IPA. With a scornful look, the bartender handed him a Bud Light, and Bucky found himself pushed back by the press of bodies into a corner where a small and slender young man sat at a tall table.

The young man in question was reading a book.

Bucky found himself staring in surprise – a _book,_ in this noise?

The young man, feeling himself being stared at, looked up. His eyes narrowed.

“Sorry,” Bucky shouted over the din. “Didn’t mean to stare. The book surprised me.”

The young man pointed at his ears. “I’m deaf,” he shouted back. “Can’t hear you.”

Bucky felt in his pockets and pulled out the notebook and pen he always carried. He flipped to a clean page and scribbled, _Your book surprised me. Most people aren’t reading in clubs like this._

“Oh,” the young man replied. “Yeah, I’m bored. This band sucks.”

Bucky winced. _I wasn’t gonna say anything,_ he writes. _I was thinking maybe I’ve just gotten too old for the scene._

“You’re never too old for the scene,” the young man replied. “My grandma sometimes comes to see me play. It’s just that this band really sucks.” He paused, then said, “What’s your name? I’m Steve.”

_Bucky,_ Bucky wrote. _What do you play?_

“Drums,” Steve replied. “Me and my friends are the Howlers.”

And that was exactly why Bucky was there – he’d been told he simply _had_ to come hear them. He wrote that down and showed it to Steve, who laughed. “Great,” he said. “I hope you’ll like us better than these assholes.”

Bucky looked up at the stage, where the current band – apparently called “Fish Fingers,” was just finishing out their set. He shook his head. _Do you play that kind of music, too?_

“Oh, no,” Steve replied. “We’re much louder and more obnoxious. But we also suck less.”

Bucky laughed. “I certainly hope so,” he said, pitching his voice to carry over the noise of the crowd now that the band had stopped playing. “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied. He patted the notebook. “Thanks for having this. I usually carry one but I forgot it tonight.”

“No worries,” Bucky said. “I always have one. Never know when I’ll need to write down important things, and my memory’s shot.”

“Too much scene?” Steve asked wryly. “I know folks like that.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, laughing. “Brain injury.”

“Oh, sorry,” Steve said. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s a fair assumption.” Bucky waved off Steve’s apology. “But yeah, I keep the notebook on me all the time in case I need to remember something.”

Steve slid off the tall stool where he was sat. “I gotta head to the back,” he said. “We’re starting soon. But hey… let me see your pencil.”

Bucky handed it over, and Steve scribbled at the top of the page. “There,” he said, handing the pencil back. “Now you can remember me.” With a wink, he tucked his own book into his pocket and vanished into the crowd.

Bucky looked down at the notebook. _Steve,_ the new note read, in oddly elegant handwriting. _929-555-7186. Lunch sometime?_

Bucky grinned. He flipped the page in the notebook and took a seat in Steve’s abandoned spot, waiting eagerly for the band to take the stage. God, he hoped they were good.

~*~

They were, in fact, excellent.

He wasn’t sure what to think when they walked out onto the stage in total silence. Steve slid behind the drums, a redheaded woman and a tall black man, both with guitars, took up positions at the microphones, and a huge blond guy with a bass found himself a spot to the side of the drums. There was a long moment of silence punctuated by the occasional audience sound and then, quite suddenly, the band blasted its way into “Blitzkrieg Bop,” and Bucky was _ruined._

For the next two hours, the band interspersed punk standards – The Ramones, the Sex Pistols, Blondie, The Clash, Patti Smith – with songs that were obviously originals, and the audience loved the originals just as much as the covers. Bucky would have sworn that he caught Steve’s eyes on him more than once during the set, but that probably didn’t mean anything; Bucky knew from experience how the stage lights stopped you from really seeing the audience.

Still, it was… nice.

When it was over, it was closing time, and Bucky spilled out onto the sidewalk with the rest of the clubgoers; he considered hanging out to see if he could catch up with Steve again but decided against it. It was a _little_ intense to do something like that, and Steve had already suggested lunch. So Bucky found his bicycle, unlocking it from the light pole he’d secured it to, and headed home.

**Author's Note:**

> For the Banned Together Bingo 2020 prompt "punk rock".


End file.
